It Had To Be You
by coloursflyaway
Summary: It's the morning after, they're in love, and there are still a few things to be said. Sequel to The Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To


The first rays of sunlight are peaking through the curtains they never closed properly the night before, and Steve takes a moment to thank God for letting him wake this early, before the factories open, before the first men and women wander down the streets, tired and cursing. Before Bucky next to him opens his blue, blue eyes, and smiles or frowns, leaves or stays.  
Because right now, when Bucky is still asleep, eyes closed and lips parted, the lines of worry around his mouth smoothed out, Steve has him all to himself, from the soles of his feet to the last atoms of his eyelashes.

The light is getting stronger by the minute and Steve just watches. The other is beautiful, sun-tinted skin and dark, messy hair, his fingers curled into the pillow underneath him and his face turned towards Steve. Who wonders if he can memorise the way the shadows make Bucky's cheekbones stand out even more, the softness of strands of hair which have fallen into the omega's face, so he'll be able to draw them later, and get it right.  
He most likely won't, because no matter how often he tries, Steve never does, but he knows that just as well as he knows he won't stop trying. Especially won't stop now, when he hopefully is, will be, allowed to.

Slowly the light creeps up, chasing the shadows, and with them the last night away; by the time Steev notices, it has reached Bucky's lips. It makes them look even pinker than usual, fuller, and Steve knows that it the light will grow bolder, claim inch after inch until it's shining right into the other's eyes.  
Knows that it will wake Bucky, because the omega has never been a heavy sleeper, and Steve likes the thought of Bucky waking up next to him, all blinking eyes and a sleep-softened voice.  
Still, he doesn't do anything to wake the other, at least not yet, just stays and watches. But Bucky's eyelashes lie fanned out over his cheekbones, like smudges of charcoal, and Steve can't help but touch. Just lightly, brushing one of his fingertips over Bucky's cheek, just beneath the line of his lashes, as if he was painting, drawing, tracing.

Faintly, Steve is aware that he is holding his breath, but Bucky doesn't wake, doesn't wake either when he starts all over again, runs his fingertip from the other's forehead down to the tip of his nose. Moves his hand so he can trace the line of Bucky's jaw instead, which is defined and sharp and one of the few things Steve always gets right in his pictures. Why, he doesn't quite know, because it's definitely not the feature Steve spends most of his time looking at; maybe, he thinks, while he brushes his finger over the little dip in the omega's chin, it's because it's what makes Bucky look like he is deep inside, strong and stubborn and unbreakable.

And it's then that Bucky wakes, charcoal lashes fluttering open, a pink tongue darting out to lick across even pinker lips, and Bucky looks at him, really looks, and smiles. Smiles like the sun on the first day of spring, like the first taste of chocolate after having to go without it for a month, like Christmas feels.  
There is warmth in the omega's blue eyes, hope and joy and trust, and it takes Steve's breath away, makes him smile and think of what to say. There is nothing, though, not because there wouldn't be anything he could, should say, but because this moment is perfect as it is; the light and Bucky's smile and his skin warm under Steve's fingertips.

Bucky doesn't say anything either, just keeps smiling, and lets Steve draw a line from his jaw to his lips, tracing them, breath hitching because he can do that now. Will be able to do that for – good _God_ – for the rest of his life; the thought is almost too much to comprehend and yet better than anything else Steve has thought in at least a decade.  
He keeps touching, running his finger down Bucky's chest and over his collarbone, up his throat again and along his hairline, down the bridge of his nose and finally, lets it rest on Bucky's lips again. If he did it a hundred more times, Steve is fairly certain that his fingertips would still end up there.

And finally, Bucky moves, reacts, parts his lips with mirth twinkling in his eyes as he licks the skin, sucks the tip of Steve's fingers between his plump lips. It might just be enough to make Steve blush a little, but that's alright, because Bucky's lips stretch into a satisfied little grin around his finger.

_Good morning_, Steve wants to say, but words seem wrong, seem too much right now, so instead, he leans in and presses their lips together in a short, short kiss, because they've both just woken up, and Steve is not willing to get up yet to brush his teeth.  
There will be time for longer kisses later.  
Bucky is still smiling, and Steve can feel it, the curve of the other's lips against his own. A moment, another, and then Steve pulls away, but doesn't come far, because Bucky follows his movement until he can kiss him again, still just lips against lips, and if Bucky's breath tastes sour against his lips, Steve doesn't mind it at all.

"Haven't slept this good in ages", Bucky finally says after another two, three kisses, his fingers curled around Steve's. They're longer, thicker, calloused, because they're the fingers of a man who works in the docks every night; Steve's are slender, delicate, artist's hands and he knows it should be the other way around.  
Maybe the thought would have stung a few hours ago, but it doesn't anymore, not when Bucky doesn't mind it, wants him even though he is a laughable excuse for an alpha.

"Yeah, me too", Steve answers, a little bit of a smile still clinging to his lips, which might have belonged to Bucky before Steve kissed it off the other's mouth. It's the truth, but he only notices that after he has replied and hopes that Bucky hasn't been able to hear that in his voice.  
If he has, Steve tries to undo it by turning his hand, so that he can intertwine their fingers, finding that they fit together almost perfectly.

For what feels like an eternity, they do nothing, just breathe together, their fingers intertwined and the last bits of sleep still clinging to both their minds, and a hundred thoughts rushing through Steve's head. There are so many things which need to be talked about, about the bond and how it'll change everything, and Steve is trying to find a way not to say any of it. Not yet, when everything is still new and precious and just looking at Bucky makes him want to shout his love for the other out into the world.

However, it's not his choice, not this time. The air around them changes, and for a moment, Steve thinks that the world around them is waking, trudging to work, but his eyes are fixed on Bucky and notice something is off.  
He isn't looking at Steve, for the first time this morning, the first time since last night, and that is enough to warn him that he won't like what the other says next.  
"So…", Bucky starts, and shifts, still doesn't look at him, and there is a hint of that misplaced sadness from the night before in his voice again, a trace of doubt. "You still sure that you wanna do this?"

It's not at all how the other is supposed to sound, cocky and loud and carefree, a melody to his words Steve has never heard anywhere else.

"Of course." Steve makes sure that he doesn't miss a beat, doesn't give even a moment to make Bucky think he might be hesitating, squeezes the other's fingers. "Of course I want to. Of course I want you."  
A moment passes in breathless silence, but then Bucky's lips curl into a smiles that is no sunrise, no gentle starlight, it's a supernova, explodes over the omega's features and paints them bright and happy and relieved in the matter of a second, puts the sunlight to shame in its radiance. There are no words, no reply; instead Bucky shifts and moves until he can push Steve on his back, and drape his own body half across the alpha's frail chest.  
He's heavy, but in a good way, in a way which makes his heart swell and not speed up in panic. Steve's fingers tangle themselves in Bucky's hair, playing with the soft strands, and Bucky smiles, or is still smiling.

"Never thought it would be like this", Steve confesses after a few moments of just watching, and Bucky's eyes darken a little, no matter how bright they were before. "I always hoped it would be, though. Ever since we were children, always hoped we'd be together for the rest of our lives."  
The words make him blush, but they are true nonetheless, and they need to be said, Steve needs to speak them out-loud to finally make them true, unchangeable and indestructible.  
"Although… although I thought it would be me in your position. You know, an omega, God, I _never_ thought I would be an alpha."

Steve expects Bucky to nod, to say, _yeah, me too_, but the other shakes his head, vehemently, as if everything he just heard was wrong.  
"I did", Bucky says, cranes his head a little, so that Steve can reach the hair in the nape of his neck, sighing happily when he tugs slightly at the strands. "I always knew that you'd be an alpha. After all, it's…it's not about how tall you are, or how strong, it's about what's in there." Bucky pokes his chest, just above his heart. "And you've got everything an alpha needs there. More than that even. You're a hundred time better alpha than those buff alpha jerks on the streets."  
The other pauses, closes his eyes and lets Steve just stroke his hair for a few moments, clearly very content just where he is. "A hundred times better than I could ever have been, too. I never would have been a good alpha, 'm too shallow, too twisted, but you, Steve, you're good. Better man than all of us. So yeah, I always knew. That I was an omega too. Thought maybe a beta, but not really."

Steve wants to say something, wants to say no, wants to say that Bucky is not at all shallow, not at all twisted, but the other doesn't give him enough time to do that, just smiles and continues. "And that's okay, really", he soothes, most likely because Bucky knows exactly what he is thinking. "I don't wanna be anything else, because like this we fit together perfectly…and that is the most important thing."  
Bucky leans down and kisses his chest instead of his lips, just above his heart, and Steve's heart speeds up, swells and clenches up at the same time, his nails scraping over Bucky's scalp. It makes him purr, and Steve realise that there is still so much he doesn't know about the other. That there is still so much more he can find out about.

"When I presented, I was so terrified, remember?", he says slowly, quietly and waits until Bucky nods. "Of course it was because it felt so wrong, suddenly being supposed to be strong and fierce, but it was more because…because I was sure that you'd be one too, and although I never believed you'd, well. Want me, I still hoped and that would have made everything impossible. I was so afraid I'd have to stop hoping."  
Steve chuckles weakly, lets his fingers travel down to Bucky's jaw, stroking the tips over the omega's warm skin.

There are no words, hardly even sounds for so long, just Bucky's eyes and lips and the beating of his heart against Steve's body, but then the omega breaks the silence with a voice that is barely even loud enough to do that. "It wouldn't have mattered though", he says, and Steve doesn't understand.  
It must show in his eyes, or the way his lips are curved, because Bucky knows.  
"It wouldn't have, because…well. Because if I'd have been an alpha too, we would still have made this work. I would have."

Bucky looks determined, but his teeth catch his lower lip like they always do when he is considering something too hard, when he is nervous. "Cause I love you and your status would never be able to change that."

Something…something changes. The world stops spinning and the sky turns purple, the moon falls and the sun takes its place; no, everything changes, because Bucky says he loves him and how could it not?  
It's strange how they have spent a night together, and yet neither of them has spoken those words out-loud, and it's ridiculous how, after all of it, they still feel so important. "I…", Steve starts, his tongue too weak to speak for a few, terrible moments. "God, Buck, I love you too. I love you." His voice breaks, grows soft and quiet, because it's too much.

His fingers are still loosely resting against Bucky's jaw, and while Steve cannot move, Bucky takes them and brings them to his lips, kissing them, one by one, over and over again; when he looks up again, Bucky's eyes are soft and gentle.

"You know, you're supposed to be the one telling me that that is completely impossible", the omega says after a few moments, and he is smiling, eyes twinkling. Steve wraps his other arm tightly around Bucky's waist and holds him close. "That going against biology like that would never work, because it's inevitable an' all."  
He's joking, and so Steve chuckles, catches the other's hand in his own and brings them up to his own lips, placing a kiss on Bucky's palm. "Yeah, I should", Steve finally agrees, lets Bucky's and his hand sink down to his chest. "But, I really can't."  
And he squeezes Bucky's fingers, waits until the other's fingers have curled around his, before he continues. "Because if I would have been an omega, and you still would have wanted me, I would have done everything to make work as well."


End file.
